HORATIO If your mind dislike anything, obey it. I will forestall their repair hither and say you are not fit.
HAMLET Not a whit. We defy augury. There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be, ’tis not to come. If it be not to come, it will be now. If it be not now, yet it will come. The readiness is all, since no man of aught he leaves knows what is’t to leave betimes. Let be. (5.2.195-202)
Horatio makes one last attempt to dissuade Hamlet, because he too thinks that something’s up: if your mind dislike anything, obey it; if this doesn’t feel right, say, go with your gut. I will forestall their repair hither and say you are not fit. I’ll go and stop the King and Laertes and all the rest from coming here; I’ll say you’re not well, not ready, anything! Even though they’re in prose, Hamlet makes a wry little rhyme: not a whit; not at all. No point. Don’t worry about it. We defy augury! No point in giving in to such qualms and wobbles; no such thing as a funny feeling. There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow, a divine purpose in everything that happens, or not; no way of knowing, really. We just have to go with it—but the image of the falling sparrow, for all its biblical origin, has such pathos, such soft, small sadness. After all, if it be, ’tis not to come. If something happens, at least we can stop wondering about when it’ll happen. And if it be not to come, it will be now. If it be not to come, it will be now. If it be not now, yet it will come. It’s not now or never, and it’s a question of when, not if, and when might as well be now for all the difference it makes. And it is death. Nothing we can do about it. The readiness is all; the thing is to be prepared, in so much as one can be? And since no man of aught he leaves knows what is’t to leave betimes: we know so little of life, of who we really are, that to die young, to leave our lives early—well, it doesn’t make any difference, does it? So let be. No longer to be or not to be; no questions or answers, just acceptance. I’m OK with it all, whatever happens, so just don’t say anything more, alright, my friend? Surrender, acceptance—or a kind of nihilism? At least in the moment, it’s OK. Nothing to be done. Let be.
